


CO(re)HABI(li)TATION

by MMXIII



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Jim is a jumpy little shit, M/M, Murder Husbands, Psychopaths In Love, criminal boyfriends, mormor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:32:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMXIII/pseuds/MMXIII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian's still figuring out where he stands</p>
            </blockquote>





	CO(re)HABI(li)TATION

Sebastian clicks the door shut gently

 

The glass in the high French windows is spattered with something dark and sticky that strips away 85% of any natural light. Pock marks of scorched paint scar the elaborate Victorian wall paper, the edges curling outwards thickly. Thousand upon thousand of cryptic papers carpet the parquet floor. It looks as though someone has broken in to the ridiculously fortified apartment, but not quite; the theatricality of the destruction bleeds all the tension from his shoulders; the style is far too distinctive.

‘Working on our Tate exhibition are we?’ he directs into empty space; he knows better than to assume that Jim is asleep, that he isn’t there, that he isn’t _listening_

A chunk of faceted crystal glass skates across the floor as Sebastian moves to take off his jacket stiffly.

 

_‘Get out’_

 

He looks up and just barely makes out the contorted figure of another man sprawled awkwardly across an armchair as far away from the adjacent window as possible

_Fucking princess_

 

‘Yeah yeah, I’m going for a shower now alri-‘

‘I said, _GET OUT!_ ’

 

The snarl, devoid of Jim’s usual musicality, splinters the dancing-dust-silence

Sebastian, sensing danger, steps forward

 

‘ _out out get out get out_ …’

 

Jim sits murmuring, slumped in his champagne leather armchair with heels of his hands pressed into his eye sockets

 

‘Hey’,

 

Sebastian reaches out boldly with his left hand (he’s not an idiot) and relishes the spark of terror the screams just as he makes contact with Jim’s black, _black_ hair.

 

‘Let’s go for a drive’, he says softly, smoothing the fine hairs between his thumb and forefinger. At moments like these he feels like the pillar of an empire, stability amidst the fallout of genius, the chronic insomnia, the crippling migraines, the night terrors, the despair, the inexplicable rages...

_‘mmm’_

 Jim leans in until his head is pressed heavily against Seb's arm

Seb's finger tips come away stained reddish-brown

 

‘James, y-‘

 

‘Get OUT of my

_FUCKING_

HEAD’

He screams, and suddenly Sebastian is flat on his back, with a light flex coiled around his leg and a stabbing pain in his skull.

 

 ‘What the bleeding Christ is going on now?!’ Sebastian growls, coiling round to stand before Jim is pressed up against him, _everywhere_ ,staring at him with blazing pupils and far _, far_ too close. One pale, undeniably dextrous hand slips down between them and fits itself over Sebastian’s crotch.

The back of Seb’s head hit the floor with a dull thud and Jim smiles into the darkness

 

‘You know what you are, _Seb.ahs.tyen?’,_ Jim croons, nuzzling the soft spot hidden just under Seb’s left ear.

 

‘Gardener’ murmurs Seb, only a little defiantly

‘Cook’,

‘Glorified fucking _housekeeper’_

He groans as Jim toys with his fly

 

‘YOU, are a _liability_ ’ he hums, reaching around the crown of Seb’s filthy head to yank it back

 

‘Jeeezus James…’, breathes Sebastian, fingers struggling through fistfuls of Westwood

 

‘The crack’ says Jim, pressing his teeth to Sebastian’s exposed jugular, ‘in the _fucking_ lens’.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for all the italics, err, I got a little carried away... :P  
> Comments much appreciated - Thanks for reading! :)


End file.
